Handle ID Slayer
by Jedi Buttercup
Summary: Buffy goes along for the ride to Olduvai Station. EPILOGUE ADDED.
1. Handle ID Slayer

**Title**: Handle ID Slayer 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: T

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: Buffy goes along for the ride to Olduvai Station. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

**Notes**: Movieverse. For TtH100 prompt #62, Game, and twistedshorts challenge #39, Green.

* * *

"RRTS Special Ops Clearance Verified," the heavy gun announced as the big man plucked it from its resting place. "Handle ID, Sarge."

In the forty years since Buffy had first discovered her own immortality-- a strange side-effect of Willow's resurrection spell, combined with the mystical forces unleashed in the battle against the First-- she hadn't changed her opinion on guns one bit. When the slime really hit the fan, the stupid things were _never_ useful. Still, it was a basic requirement of her current job, and she wasn't ready to thumb her nose at her temporary boss just yet. She reached for her own weapon, then smirked at its announcement.

"RRTS Special Ops Clearance Verified," the computerized voice called out. "Handle ID, Slayer."

On the other side of the transport, the youngest member of the team scowled at her. "How come she gets to be 'Slayer', and I get to be 'The Kid'? She's as new to the unit as I am!"

Buffy raised an eyebrow at the green recruit, then exchanged smirks with the Sarge and settled back to wait out the ride. She knew what she looked like; blonde, tiny, ninety pounds soaking wet. But her body language spoke _predator_ in a way the kid's never would.

Of course, that might have something to do with the 24th chromosome the Watchers had recently discovered attached to Slayer DNA, a magically activated mutation that mysteriously matched recent discoveries at the Olduvai archaeological dig. No-one was quite sure yet what it meant; the Council sure wasn't sharing with UAC personnel, and their informant inside UAC, an unactivated Potential named Dr. Samantha Grimm, didn't have access to either the Council's most up-to-date data nor the uppermost levels of research at the facility.

Whatever was going on up there, recent Slayer dreams had suggested it was going to be bad-- and so, the Watchers had constructed her an alternate ID and inserted her into the most likely reaction force. Her assignment, above all other orders, was to rescue the doctor and recover the research; to that, she had personally added the safekeeping of Sam's brother John.

She'd spent the better part of the last thirty years guarding the children and grandchildren of other Scoobies, and she wasn't about to fall down on the job now. Xander would have been proud of Sam and Reaper; she only wished he'd lived to meet them.

--


	2. Reporting Contact

**Title**: Reporting Contact 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: T

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: Those things were like anti-Slayers... and Reaper was out there with them. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

**Notes**: Movieverse. Follow-up to "Handle ID, Slayer".

* * *

Buffy paced warily around the edges of the infirmary, all her senses straining for the least sign of another creature approaching. She'd had forty years and more to perfect her extrasensory perception since the Sunnydale Hellmouth's collapse, and she'd never felt anything like them. They weren't demonic, but there was a darkness to them that repulsed her on an instinctive level.

Whatever was up with them, it had to have something to do with Chromosome 24. These things were like anti-Slayers... and Reaper was out there with them. Human, fragile Reaper, for all he was 28 years old and a Special Ops veteran. Why couldn't Sarge have sent him back with his sister again? She didn't know Duke well, had no idea if she could trust him to have her back, and in the meantime Xander's son was in harm's way without her.

Not that Xander hadn't been exactly the same, Buffy thought wryly. It was how he'd died at age 37, rushing into battle without his 26-year-old Slayer… who'd stayed at home to protect the children growing in her womb. Another Watcher had married her afterward, given the children his name and took her to Mars to work on a dig far away from anything supernatural, but it was Xander who'd made it possible to get her PhD while Slaying, and it was Xander who'd given her the twins, leaving a legacy that scholarly Dr. Grimm could never live up to.

Reaper just might, though, Buffy thought, freezing in place as the dark-eyed Marine's voice carried over her radio, reporting contact.

"We found another one of the scientists," he said gruffly. "Some weird shit going on here, Sarge."

No shit, Buffy thought, eyes turning toward the exam table as Sarge asked Reaper for an ID. Dr. Carmack was beginning to set off her nerves in the same way the creatures did; he might have survived the initial attack, but something was seriously wrong with him.

"We got a Dr. Olson," Reaper answered. "He rushed us crazy, just like Carmack."

"Is he dead?" Sarge demanded.

"Yeah. Very. Should we bag him and tag him?"

Yes, Buffy thought; bring him here. Here, with your sister, where I can make sure you're both safe!

"Negative," Sarge ordered, dashing her hopes. "Continue your search."

Buffy ground her teeth and started pacing again. She had a feeling things were only going to get worse.

--


	3. Infectious Agent

**Title**: Infectious Agent 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: T

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: There was something in Dr. Carmack's blood. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

**Notes**: Movieverse. Part of the "Handle ID, Slayer" series.

* * *

Buffy watched Dr. Willets draw a vial of blood from Dr. Carmack's arm-- blood visibly contaminated with fat black specks.

"Oh my God," the doctor exclaimed. "There's something in his blood."

"What's happening to him?" Sam breathed, worriedly.

Buffy thought she could probably tell them-- not that they'd believe her. She'd bet anything that the whatever-it-was that had attacked him had been kind of like a werewolf-- something that started out human, had transformed into something monstrous, and was now infectious. Except that the transformations seemed to take effect within hours, and there were no indications that infected people could turn _back_. The Council hadn't heard of anything like it-- which meant either their origins had been kept from Sam, much as they'd presented only their non-supernatural face to her, or Sam was a brilliant actress. The latter didn't seem likely; there was too much Xander in her, transparent emotions and all.

Buffy shuddered, turning to pace again, as voices broke over the radio, punctuated by gunfire and harsh breathing.

"Reaper, what have you got?" Sarge barked.

"We're chasing something!" John replied at the top of his lungs. Buffy flinched, then looked back over her shoulder at a tense Sam.

"What do you mean, _something_?" Sarge demanded.

"Something _big_. Not human!" John answered, still yelling.

Sarge swore. "God damn it! Give me confirmation on what you see!"

Goat's voice broke in urgently. "Reaper, it's in the sewer!"

There was a pause, then Reaper's voice again, calmer, but no less intense. "All units, all units. Southwest corridor, near the med lab."

Oh yeah, Buffy thought. There's our infectious agent. Good thing it can't get to us in here… but maybe it doesn't think it has to...? Following the prodding of her instincts, she paced back toward the medical bed, sidling into a shadow where Dr. Carmack couldn't see her. Sam had turned away, urging Dr. Willets to go to her daughter, and Duke was watching them; Carmack could easily take the opportunity to make like a tree.

The lab's computer beeped; footsteps crossed the lab, followed by Sam's voice: "What's going on?"

Buffy didn't hear whatever Duke said in reply, though, because sure enough Carmack bolted off the bed, shucking his med coat as he went.

"Duke!" Buffy yelled, then pounced, pinning Carmack's transforming body to the ground. No way was _she_ going to be the one who failed this mission.

--


	4. Out of Hand

**Title**: Out of Hand 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: T

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: Buffy looked up to meet Sam's shocked, horrified eyes, and shook her head. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

**Notes**: Movieverse. Part of the "Handle ID, Slayer" sequence. This is where Buffy's presence really starts to have an effect.

* * *

In the confusion immediately following Dr. Carmack's attempt to break out of the med lab-- or the thing that _used_ to be Dr. Carmack-- Buffy paid little attention to the radio traffic from the rest of the team. Her focus was all on the writhing body beneath her, its torn ear practically the only thing still recognizable from before its transformation.

The creature was at least as strong as she was now, and that worried her. As small as she was, trying to keep it muzzled and pinned to the floor was nearly impossible; after several long seconds that felt like as many hours Duke pitched in, but he was only human and was quickly knocked backward.

Buffy knew it was only a matter of time before the situation got completely out of hand; unless she wanted to let it escape to kill or infect others, there was only one thing to do. It wasn't Dr. Carmack any more; it was a predatory demon, and she knew what to do with those. She timed her moment carefully, letting go just as the creature arched powerfully up off the floor, the momentum catapulting her upward. Swiftly, she brought her weapon around from its resting position slung over her shoulder, aimed, and fired.

In the stunned silence that fell afterward, Buffy could hear the whispered voice of Goat over the radio. "_My light is down. I don't see anything_…"

She looked up to meet Sam's shocked, horrified eyes, and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Dr. Grimm. There are enough of these things out there already."

"_Don't move, I'm on my way!_" Reaper said in her ear.

"Things?" Sam blurted, dropping her gaze to the deformed body that had once been the base's chief scientist. "But-- that's Dr. Carmack--"

"Not any more, it's not," Duke said grimly.

"_Pinky, can you see anything?_" Buffy heard Goat ask the technician manning the surveillance system.

"_No, nothing_," Pinky's voice answered.

Buffy swallowed. "Dr. Grimm-- Sam-- You have to tell me. Did you find anything like this-- mutated, or worse-- at the dig?"

"No," Sam said tearfully, shaking her head.

"Any human genetic experiments going on in the labs?" Buffy pressed.

"No, nothing like that!" Sam objected.

The radio erupted suddenly with screams. "I think there was," Buffy said, pulse racing with worry. "And you're gonna help us figure it out before anyone else gets killed."

--


	5. Creating Monsters

**Title**: Creating Monsters 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: T

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: From the looks of the wound on Goat's neck, Buffy suspected they were about to have another test case. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

**Notes**: Movieverse. Part of the "Handle ID, Slayer" sequence. Diverges further from movie canon.

* * *

Buffy held back from the crowd around the med table, watching as John worked furiously to save his wounded teammate. He wasn't the Reaper at all in this context; his strong hands were busy trying to preserve life instead of taking it.

Between Carmack's death and the team's arrival with Goat, Sam had been researching Carmack's changes; she still wasn't sure exactly _how_ the transformative contagion worked, but a glance at Carmack's cellular structure had shown them _what_ it was, much to Sam's dismay. If C24 had made the Martians super strong, super fit, and swiftly healing without noticeable deformities, how could the same genetic additive also create ravening monsters? They hadn't had time to find an answer, but from the looks of the wound on Goat's neck, Buffy suspected they were about to have another test case.

"You don't shield a baby from time," John had said earlier, looking warily at the skeletons recovered from the dig. Buffy had agreed with him-- and still did, more now than ever. The ancient Martians had made a mistake-- one that Carmack must have reawakened somehow.

Buffy flinched as he heart monitor set up next to Goat reported a flatline; John kept moving, charging and applying the de-fib paddles, but the team seemed to know what was coming. It was written on their faces-- even Sarge, who was pacing the lab like a caged lion.

She watched him as Goat briefly acquired a pulse and then flatlined again; he tracked around the room, then stopped suddenly, staring intently at something on the floor. "Where the hell's Carmack?"

Buffy followed his gaze to Carmack's discarded labcoat-- she'd forgotten to grab it when she carried him to the morgue section. "He's dead," she answered baldly.

"What! How?" he demanded, angrily.

"He was turning into one of _them_," she replied, gesturing toward the wrapped, man-shaped object the Marines had dropped at the door.

"You mean those things out there--"

"Used to be people," she said firmly.

Behind them, John applied the de-fib paddles again. "C'mon, you sonofabitch," he growled.

The rest of the team held their breaths for a reaction-- and Buffy held hers, watching the Sarge. She still wasn't sure just when this bizarre op was destined to turn into the complete bloodbath from the visions, but she was willing to bet his next order would have a lot to do with it.

--


	6. Research Data

**Title**: Research Data 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: T

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: They knew what they were facing now, but would it be enough? 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

**Notes**: Movieverse. Events are now happening out of sequence, but the action is far from over.

* * *

"You're sure about this?" Sarge demanded fiercely, looming large in Buffy's personal space.

Somewhere in the back of the lab, something crashed; Reaper acting out on the machines, she guessed, as the flatline sound reporting Goat's death abruptly cut off. "We're sure," she replied firmly, refusing to budge.

Sarge's gaze moved over her shoulder, his lip curling in anger. "What were you people _working on_ up here?" he snarled.

"I-- as far as I knew, we were analyzing bones and artifacts," Sam said shakily.

"As far as you _knew_?" Sarge responded, incredulously.

"He, he has C24 in his cells-- but we were never going to do human studies--" Sam stuttered.

"C24?" Reaper spoke up, intensely. "You mentioned that in the genetics lab-- what were you _downloading_, Sam? What were you sent to _protect_?"

"The research data!" she replied, voice thick with tears.

"Research into _what_?" Buffy asked, glancing back over her shoulder at the visibly distressed siblings.

"Wait, wait," Portman interrupted, moving away from Goat's quiescent body to kick at the wrapped corpse on the floor. "You're telling me the scientists made these fuckin' things?"

"Shut up, Portman," Sarge ordered. "So where's the data now, Dr. Grimm?"

Sam produced a chip-disc from a pocket with a trembling hand. The team gathered around her computer to watch as she inserted the disc-- then stared, transfixed with horror, at the sight of Dr. Carmack injecting a convicted criminal with a mysterious clear substance, coolly monitoring and reporting on the onset of the man's mutations.

"Genesis, chapter one," Reaper commented grimly as the file closed.

"Was this everything?" Sarge asked, glaring at Reaper, then Sam.

"I have three more downloads," Sam replied.

"Then do it," Sarge ordered. "Slayer, Duke, with her. Reaper, Kid, pairs; cover formation, sweep the corridors. We have two scientists left unaccounted for, plus Stahl. Destroyer, you and Portman go to the airlock; arm Pinky. Nothing gets back through the Ark."

Reaper looked like he wanted to argue, but it was Destroyer who spoke. "Where you goin'?"

"I'm going to the armory," Sarge answered, an anticipatory gleam in his eyes.

Buffy watched warily as he left. They knew what they were facing now, but would it be enough? Buffy had no way of knowing, bar another Slayer dream, and that wasn't good enough. As soon as Sam was finished here, she was going to move her-- orders or no.

--


	7. A Little Tension

**Title**: A Little Tension 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: T

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: This was _not_ the time to be flirting with their protectee. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

**Notes**: Movieverse. An interlude as the soldiers get into position.

* * *

"So," Duke drawled, leaning over Sam's shoulder as she accessed the computer network. "A little tension 'tween you and Reaper."

Buffy had noticed that herself; she'd seen the ghosts in his eyes, and remembered the reports about what happened to their mother and stepfather. Being on Mars at all was treading painful ground for Reaper; he'd chosen to deal with his grief back then by running and fighting, while Sam had decided to follow in her parents' footsteps. It had been easy for the Council to get _her_ to send them reports, just by claiming to be one of the investors that funded the original dig, but Reaper had been harder to keep tabs on-- and not just for the Council, from what Buffy could tell.

Sam shrugged, removing a chip-disc from the terminal's reader and inserting a fresh one. "We just went our separate ways," she said, carefully.

"So what was he like before?" Duke pressed, eyes lingering on Sam's profile and figure.

"Who, John?" she asked, with a flash of wry smile. "Empathetic, sensitive..."

Duke snorted. "It's kinda hard for me to imagine Reaper as sensitive."

Buffy rolled her eyes. This was _not_ the time to be flirting with their protectee, completely aside from the fact that Xander's daughter totally deserved better. "Whether or not he's _sensitive_ won't matter much if we don't hurry up and get this done," she said. "How much longer, Dr. Grimm?"

"Fifteen or twenty minutes," Sam said. "Why the rush? We're relatively safe behind the nanowall, and John knows how to take care of himself. As long as they don't infect him..."

"What if one breaks quarantine instead?" Buffy asked, grimly, looking up as the base computer announced all personnel had been evacuated. "Sarge's orders say _contain and neutralize_, and if he thinks they've carried the infection back to the scientists on Earth…" She shook her head, uneasiness still humming in her veins.

Duke sucked in a breath. "He'd kill 'em all if he thought it was necessary."

Sam paled, looking up from her keyboard as she switched discs again. "But he can't-- We don't even know if it would turn _everyone_ into monsters, or if some would become superhuman, or not get infected at all--"

"So hurry up," Buffy urged, radio blessedly silent in her ear. "The sooner we have what UAC wants, the quicker we can get out of here."

--


	8. About Time

**Title**: About Time 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: M

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: Buffy knew she probably shouldn't be pushing so hard, but her nerves were absolutely crawling. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

**Notes**: Movieverse.

* * *

"That's the last one?" Buffy asked, nodding at the disc in Sam's hand.

Sam stowed it in a pocket with the others she'd spent the last several minutes loading with data and nodded. "Yes. That's everything they asked for, all the encrypted data UAC couldn't download through the satellite links."

"Good," Buffy said, shouldering her weapon and pacing over to the controls for the nano-wall. "It's about time we got out of here, then."

"What? Why?" Sam asked. "Shouldn't we wait?"

"Wait for what?" Buffy's eyebrows went up. "One of those things to break through the airlock?"

"I don't know, man." Duke frowned at her. "Sarge said to stay here."

"Sarge doesn't get it yet," Buffy said, rounding on him. She knew she probably shouldn't be pushing so hard, but her nerves were absolutely crawling. "This isn't just some _thing_ we're fighting. You saw-- it used to be human! It can think as well as we can, and it's stronger than us, and it's _evil_. You think it's going to be content playing hide and seek until we're ready to kill it? It's going to go for the Ark, and I want Sam out of here before that happens."

"Yeah, and how come _you_ get it, then?" Duke asked suspiciously, slipping his own weapon into a ready position. "How'd you hold Carmack down when he was turning? He threw me off like I was nothing, but you... How'd you do that, man?"

Buffy winced. She'd been hoping no one had been paying that much attention to detail. "Look, it's complicated," she said. "Just trust me. We _have_ to get out of here."

Sam shook her head, opening her mouth to add something to the conversation, then abruptly froze in horror, staring at the window separating med lab from morgue. Something struck the glass hard, and Sam screamed as though her life depended on it.

Buffy turned to look and felt her blood run cold. She automatically aimed her gun at the apparition, but couldn't bring herself to fire; she watched in sick dismay as the thing that used to be Goat beat its own head into a pulp. Every impact against the glass startled another shriek out of Sam, until it finally slumped and slid down the wall out of sight.

"Oh, _shit_," Duke said, reverently.

"Okay," Sam breathed, shakily. "I trust you. Let's get the hell out of here."

--


	9. Moving Fast

**Title**: Moving Fast 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: T

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: Buffy could hear the rapid pop of gunfire approaching. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

* * *

Buffy took point as the little group exited the infirmary, Duke falling in on their six and Samantha walking between them. Sam slipped a few mystery vials into a pocket as they left, but Buffy pretended not to notice; anything extra Sam liberated would just be more for the Council scientists to study, UAC be damned.

The infirmary exit wasn't far from the airlock, fortunately. Buffy kept her weapon shouldered and her senses sharp as they made their way toward Destroyer and Portman's position, but all seemed blessedly clear until they were nearly to the airlock door. Then the radio suddenly activated.

"We're in pursuit, moving fast out of the dig!" Reaper announced harshly.

"Pinky, what do you see!" Sarge demanded, his words accompanied by the ring of boots running on metal flooring.

"It's big. Very big. Moving fast, headed toward the lab complex," Pinky replied.

"Oh, not even," Buffy hissed to herself, then made a quick decision. "Duke, get her through the Ark. I'm going back."

"I thought you said--" Sam objected, distressed.

"I know what I said." Buffy threw Sam a quick frown as she paced past her to switch places with Duke. "But I'm not leaving _anyone_ to get eaten if I can help it. Now go!"

Sam looked like she had more to say, but Duke cut her off. He took Sam's arm, met gazes with Buffy in acknowledgement, then tugged the scientist away down the corridor.

Buffy put them out of her thoughts. She could hear the rapid pop of gunfire approaching; if she could set up a crossfire--

"Damn, it's fast," Kid panted over the comms, his weapon falling silent. Buffy waited a moment longer, frustrated, then approached his and Reaper's position. She reached them just as Sarge rejoined the team, a ridiculously large weapon cradled in his arms.  
Reaper met Buffy's gaze with a hint of reproach in his expression for leaving Sam; Buffy returned it with a defiant stare, locking eyes with him in a battle of wills only broken by Sarge's demand for a report.

Reaper looked away first. "We found Clay and Thurman at the dig," he said. "Dead. Then _it_ showed up and we gave chase."

"Did either one have neck wounds?" Buffy asked grimly, thinking of Goat. "'Cause death? Not so final with these things after all."

"_Fuck_," Sarge growled, summing up the feelings of all concerned.

--


	10. Following Orders

**Title**: Following Orders 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: T

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: Her orders came from a higher authority than Sarge's, but that did her no good if she couldn't explain that to him. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

**Notes**: Movieverse.

* * *

Buffy explained to Sarge, in as few words as possible, what had happened in the med lab and what it implied about what they were facing. It wasn't just the original victim, Stahl, they had to worry about anymore; any of the fallen scientists who hadn't been head-shot were a potential threat, too.

The computer system on the other side of the Ark had been set to lock the facility down for a six-hour quarantine, and not even five hours had passed since the RRTS squad came through to Mars. If more than one of the superhumanly strong monsters converged on the Marines guarding the Ark the odds were they'd get past them, and the scientists back in Nevada would not be able to escape. The demons and Sarge between them would kill everyone, and the bloodbath of the Slayers' nightmares would come true. Buffy did not intend to let that happen.

Sarge listened to her explanation with narrowed eyes. Something flickered in their depths when she mentioned asking Duke to get Sam to safety, but he waited until she was finished to comment. "All right. Reaper, back to the dig, make sure those dead scientists are really dead," he ordered, then focused an intimidating glare on her. "Slayer, follow his lead; no more creative interpretation of orders, is that clear?"

"Clear," she agreed. It was a good thing she wasn't really RRTS; she had a feeling the post-mission debriefing was going to be-- unpleasant. Her orders came from a higher authority than Sarge's, but that did her no good if she couldn't explain that to him.

Sarge nodded again, firmly. "Good. Meet up at the airlock when you're done. Kid, on me." He turned and left, still toting that strange, oversized weapon.

Buffy shook her head and fell in behind John. She might not be an actual Marine, and she might hate guns in principle, but she'd worked with military enough over the years to read his hand-signals and follow along. They made their way quietly and swiftly to the archaeological site, covering each other carefully as they went.

Unfortunately, they arrived at the dig too late. Dr. Thurman's body was still there, but Dr. Clay's was gone. Reaper put a bullet into Thurman's skull and reported the problem.

The hair stood up on the back of Buffy's neck when Sarge failed to answer. Something _else_ had gone wrong.

--


	11. Quarantine Breach

**Title**: Quarantine Breach 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: M

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: In the background, the Ark computer could be heard activating. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

* * *

Buffy and Reaper exchanged glances as the radio silence continued, then turned almost as one and bolted back toward the airlock. Buffy could easily have outdistanced him, but that didn't even occur to her in their headlong rush; she covered Reaper as they went, checking down side passages and around corners for either of the two monsters they knew for sure were roaming the base, and Reaper did the same for her.

They came into view of the airlock just in time to see Sarge shouldering the experimental weapon, aiming at a Hell-beast who looked to be carrying some kind of cutting tool in its clawed hands. Portman was down just in front of the lock, bleeding profusely from the neck, and Destroyer had been thrown halfway down the corridor where he sprawled like a broken doll. Reaper dropped into a crouch as he passed the dark-skinned Marine and pressed two fingers to his throat; he nodded to Buffy, confirming that the man was still alive, and they hurried forward, firing at the monster while trying to make sure the other beast wasn't approaching from a blind spot. Buffy didn't see the Kid anywhere; she hoped he was still alive.

Sarge pulled the trigger before they were close enough to make him aware of their presence, and a globe of what looked like liquid blue fire erupted from the strangely shaped barrel of his weapon. It flew directly at the monster, but the beast ducked, roaring as it skittered away from the lock, and the glowing projectile struck metal instead. Buffy watched in shock as a hole began expanding outward from the point of impact, corrupting and melting the surrounding structure as though it had been splashed with incandescent acid.

"Awwww, shit," Sarge cursed, eyes wide as he took in the damage, then cursed again as the monster scrabbled back to its feet and rushed the airlock again. This time, it wasn't alone. Buffy and Reaper poured as much lead into both beasts as they could, but didn't hit either in the skull, and they were through the now-open airlock before Sarge could fire another of the awesomely destructive rounds.

And then, in the background, the Ark computer could be heard activating.

"They got through," Buffy whispered, horrified.

"The quarantine cordon has been breached," Sarge said through a clenched jaw, staring intently at Reaper. "This mission is no longer containment."

--


	12. One Down, One to Go

**Title**: One Down, One to Go 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: M

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: Buffy bolted for the Ark, not holding back this time around. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

-----------------------------------------------------

Buffy's blood went cold at Sarge's statement. She knew what his orders would be as soon as the team followed the monsters through the Ark. There'd be no stopping to check whether the injured had been bitten on the throat, or sparing of unharmed scientists hiding in corners; he'd kill them all without mercy just to be one-hundred percent sure the infection had been eradicated. And he'd get praised for it, too-- that was the way the system worked.

No way she'd let that happen.

Buffy glanced over at Reaper and found him wide-eyed with conflicting emotions; his sister was doubly in danger now, but he was a Marine, legally bound to follow orders. She made a face at him, trying to convey both apology and reassurance, then bolted for the Ark, not holding back this time around. She was through the halls in a flash and diving through the transport bubble before the lack of blood in the Ark chamber had a chance to really register: the rear guard must have gone through just as the Hell-beasts broke in. Something must have kept Mac from lighting off an ST grenade to seal the connection behind them.

She didn't have time to wonder what that something was, however; a blink of an eye later, Buffy crashed into the floor of the Nevada Ark chamber, green with nausea after having been broken down, compressed, and flung millions of miles through the vacuum of space. There was no time to recover, either; the smaller monster was still there, crouched over a console, breaking the active link between the two chambers. Good thing she'd come through when she did-- it would take at least five minutes for the Olduvai Ark to reboot the connection.

She rose to her feet quickly, swinging her weapon to ready, but the thing's reflexes were nearly as fast as hers. It roared and charged, and only reflex kept her facing the monster and firing as she fell back before its advance. She put several bullets into center mass, trying to slow it down, then braced herself and fired high, between the eyes; it collapsed at her feet just as her back made contact with the wall of the chamber.

"One down, one to go," she muttered, taking a second to catch her breath, then began looking for a trail to follow.

It didn't take long to find one.

--


	13. Zeroing In

**Title**: Zeroing In 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: M

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: A trail of blood drops led out of the Ark chamber. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

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A trail of blood drops led out of the Ark chamber. Buffy almost wished for a vampire's senses as she followed it. If Duke had any sense he'd have taken Sam through the Ark immediately instead of waiting with Mac and Pinky, which would mean the trail was much too fresh to belong to Xander's daughter, but Buffy had no way to be sure.

Aside from the drops of blood, however, there was surprisingly little damage to the facility. She'd been expecting to see dead bodies strewn around, spattered gore on broken equipment, and staggering people with throat wounds that she'd have to kill before they turned into demons. She wasn't quite as hung up about killing humans as she used to be-- she'd learned the hard way that collateral damage was not always avoidable-- but the thought of killing innocent, still-souled victims who'd done nothing but stray into a monster's path still made her stomach churn.

Fortunately for her peace of mind, _someone_ had managed to clear the facility and hide the scientists away somewhere-- and that meant she'd already changed what would come to pass, what she'd Dreamed. If she could just track down what used to be Stahl before the Ark became active again and Sarge got involved, she might actually be able to prevent... how had Andrew put it? A total charlie-foxtrot.

A burst of gunfire, sudden and loud, echoed through the corridors; Buffy abandoned her tracking and zeroed in on the sound instead. She triggered her radio as she ran-- she'd been maintaining silence in case the Marines were hiding-- and called out to them. "Duke? Mac?"

"Slayer?" one of them replied, sounding startled, but was immediately cut off by a strangled shout. Buffy swore and picked up speed again, tearing around a dark corner just in time to see a huge, stooped shape bending over Mac's sprawled form. She fired at it, baring her teeth in a snarl as it roared in return, but it moved too quickly, escaping around another corner faster than she could correct her aim.

She could not follow it, either; she had to care for Mac first. He was bleeding from several deep, parallel scratches across his upper chest and throat, as though the demon had barely missed tearing his head off, and needed urgent care that she couldn't provide.

"Duke?" she called again, urgently. "Duke, where are you?"

--


	14. Going for Backup

**Title**: Going for Backup 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: M

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: Her five minutes had passed; the Ark was back online. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

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After several anxious seconds, Duke's welcome voice finally came over Buffy's earpiece. He was apparently holed up with the scientists only a few corridors away from her; Mac had been en route to their position when the demon caught him. Sam was with Duke, and no one had any idea where Pinky was.

Buffy packed Mac's wounds with strips torn from his undershirt, then lifted him as carefully as she could. He was half out of it, moaning and thrashing as she carried him, and it took most of her concentration not to drop him as she rushed to Duke's hideyhole. If the Stahl-beast had chosen that moment to attack, that would have been all she wrote, but Buffy's luck fortunately held.

She finally reached the correct door, a heavy steel construction leading to a large storage space, and was relieved to see a clearly unharmed Sam open it. The blonde archaeologist helped her ease Mac to the floor inside as Duke wedged the door shut again, and Dr. Willets pushed out of the crowd of frightened scientists to patch him up.

Buffy swallowed as she watched the woman work, reminded of the other-- former-- Dr. Willets, Steve, who had attacked the Marines in the sewers at Olduvai. She wondered if Duke had said anything to her yet, and if the government would eventually give the doc her husband's body back for a funeral. Probably not.

Buffy shook her head and got to her feet again, intent on resuming the hunt, but the intercoms chose that moment to activate. Her five minutes had passed; the Ark was back online. She groaned and exchanged worried glances with Duke.

"It's going to go for the Ark, try to catch the others off guard as they come through. We have to stop it, _now_, before anyone else gets hurt."

He nodded, then turned to the crowd of civilians. "Any of you have military experience?"

An older man in a lab coat stepped forward; Duke picked up Mac's weapon and thrust it into the scientist's hands. "Guard them until we come back," Duke told him.

The man nodded solemnly, and Duke opened the door again. Buffy followed him, then closed it behind her-- right in front of an intent-looking, quiet Sam. Her expression made Buffy uneasy, but there was no time to worry about it.

Together, Buffy and Duke ran back toward the Ark.

--


	15. Easier Target

**Title**: Easier Target 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: M

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: If she had anything to say about it, she would be the only means necessary, Buffy thought grimly. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

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Buffy and Duke moved with all the speed they could safely muster, hoping to reach the Ark before the demon did, or at least to catch it there and prevent it from going any further. Duke confided in quick, concise words as they moved that he and Sam had rounded up everyone they could reach when they'd arrived; there wouldn't be anyone out wandering the halls for the Hell-beast to savage. The people in the storeroom, and the Marines coming through the Ark, were its only possible victims; it would probably come for them first, as the easier target.

Nevertheless, Buffy neither saw nor heard any sign of its passage as they headed for the Ark. She did catch a glimpse in passing of an overturned wheelchair through a partially opened door-- probably Pinky's, and the endpoint of the blood trail she'd been tracking earlier-- and made a mental note to come back for him sometime in the next half-hour. She also noted the location of the controls for the nanowall protecting the main hall, and the angle at which she'd have to throw a stake to trigger it at a run.

As they approached the Ark chamber, she heard someone commenting about the frozen computers-- quarantine still set to automatically lift, comm link to the surface disabled-- and recognized the voice as the Kid's; he'd made it through the battle on Mars after all. Good. He wasn't the only one talking, either; Buffy could hear Reaper, too, speaking in an undertone to Sarge.

"...don't have to kill all of them," he was saying. "Not everyone will be infected."

"We have orders to contain this threat by any means necessary," Sarge replied.

If she had anything to say about it, _she_ would be the only means necessary, Buffy thought grimly, and took a deep breath. "Sarge!" she called out, interrupting the conversation as she and Duke finally entered the chamber.

Both men turned toward her immediately, weapons half-raised; Destroyer was with them too, conscious and mobile again, though Portman was notably absent. Buffy skidded to a stop, weapon lifted against her shoulder, and gave her report: one monster, two wounded, one possibly infected. They could still potentially walk out of this without a bloodbath.

Sarge's jaw tightened as he began to reply-- but then his eyes widened, staring over Buffy's shoulder.

"Oops," she muttered, spinning around as the demon roared.

--


	16. Final Confrontation

**Title**: Final Confrontation 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: M

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: Pretty colors flashed in front of Buffy's eyes, and the world blurred. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

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It took precious seconds-- seconds Buffy didn't have-- to bring her weapon around. She was too close to the demon, and the others couldn't fire either without fear of hitting her instead. There was nothing slowing _it_ down, however, and it swung a vast, clawed hand, knocking her heavily into a wall. It was as strong as she was; the blow dazed her, and before she could get up it batted Destroyer aside and charged her again. It grabbed her, lifting her as she struggled upright, then threw her a second time; she sailed through the air what felt like forever before impacting with the sharp edge of something sturdy.

Pretty colors flashed in front of Buffy's eyes, and the world blurred. Some immeasurable unit of time passed while she lay there, staring dully up at the ceiling, struggling to regain control of her limbs; she was _the_ Slayer, more formidable than any other, but even _her_ accelerated healing took time to work.

When the world finally swam into focus again, the roaring in her ears diminishing to merely the roars of the demon, she struggled back up and staggered toward the sound of the noise. Destroyer was still down, clutching at his ribs, but the others had chased the demon into the hall. She squinted, fumbling a stake from her vest as she tried to gauge where everyone was relative to the nanowall; when she thought she had it, she whipped the stake forward and watched it fly. Unfortunately, she was still more impaired than she'd thought; it clattered against the wall a full foot away from the controls.

Buffy fumbled for another stake, then jerked and nearly dropped it as a high, feminine voice screamed Reaper's name. Sam, it had to be: so that's what she'd been up to, planning to sneak out after them. She glanced at Reaper, noticing Sam crouched behind him, then realized why Sam had been screaming; the Kid had gone down, twitching in his death throes, bleeding out in front of her.

"Oh god," Buffy gasped, then took a deep breath and threw again, ignoring the pounding in her skull.

Several things happened simultaneously after that. The wall snapped into being, blocking the demon's escape; a ricochet pinged off the wall, causing Reaper to flinch and grunt in pain; and Sarge lifted his big fucking gun again, firing straight in the demon's face.

--


	17. After Effects

**Title**: After Effects 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: M

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: She'd saved the scientists, but she could hardly call _this_ winning. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

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The electric glow of the experimental round lit up the corridor as it impacted with the Hell-beast. For Buffy, still suffering the after effects of a blow to the skull, the effect was nauseating; the scents of charred flesh and dissolving metal blown down the hall made it worse, and she staggered into a wall, sliding down to the floor. She could still hear the others-- their panicked scrabbling to get away from the after-effects of the glowing discharge, Sam's urgent pleading with Reaper not to leave her, the chattering of John's teeth, Sarge's harsh breathing-- but she couldn't bring herself to watch.

God, the Kid had been so young-- and Reaper-- John-- Buffy closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. If she'd been quicker through the Ark, if she hadn't taken Mac to safety, if she hadn't focused all her attention on Sarge like an idiot when they _knew_ the monster could be on them at any time... She'd saved the scientists, but she could hardly call _this_ winning.

"You're sure that was the last one?" an intense, authoritative voice asked, and Buffy opened her eyes again, guilt washed away in a burst of panic. Surely, he wouldn't still insist on killing everything that breathed?

"We're sure," Duke replied firmly. "It got Pinky, but it never got near the scientists. Slayer got the other one, and nothing else got through. We take care of Pinky, and this thing is _over_. We're clean."

"_I_ say who's clean and-- what the fuck are you doing?" Sarge blurted. He'd sounded furious at first, but that last bit had an extra helping of outrage: as Buffy staggered back to her feet she saw him looming over Sam, staring at something in her hand.

"It's C24 from Carmack's lab," Sam replied tersely. "It could save him."

"No, Sam, no--" John said weakly. "If it turns me into one of those things--"

"You won't," Sam said thickly. "We know it doesn't affect everyone like that, and none of them ever tried to bite you, that has to mean something. You're bleeding to death."

"You are _not_ going to stick him with that thing," Sarge barked at her.

"He's my brother," was Sam's only answer, and she moved, jabbing something against John's thigh. Sarge moved to stop her, but he was too late.

For better or worse, Reaper had just been infected.

--


	18. Having Faith

**Title**: Having Faith 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: M

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: Buffy knelt next to Sam, wrapping an arm around the weeping Potential as she bowed over her brother's body. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

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Faced with an angry Sarge and no clear idea of where the trigger was between his usual dominating nature and the psychotic behavior she'd caught glimpses of in her Dreams, Buffy could think of only one thing to do. She grabbed the heaviest thing within reach, then rushed him before he could react and knocked him over the head with it.

The expression on Duke's face, seeing Sarge slumped at her feet, would have been funny if the situation had been any less dire. He'd followed her lead in a pinch on Mars, but his ultimate loyalty was to the Marines; she knew he'd never approve of what she'd just done. But that didn't matter. She'd be long gone, per long-standing arrangements, by the time he gave his report.

Buffy turned her back on him and knelt next to Sam, wrapping an arm around the weeping Potential as she bowed over her brother's body. "Shh," she said quietly. "You were right._ I_ have C24 Sam, and so did your mother. If the effect is genetically linked--" and it had to be, after the fuss the Council had made over what this research could mean regarding Buffy's extreme expression of the Slayer traits, "--then I'm sure he'll be fine."

"My-- my mother?" Sam stuttered, dragging her gaze away from Reaper to stare at Buffy. "What do you know about my mother?"

"I can bench press a truck, Sam. I can heal almost any wound, and I'm more than twice your age. I met your mom after _she_ was given C24, and I knew your birth father." No time to explain now that magic, not science, had activated Sam's mother's abilities, giving her an imperfect copy of that extra chromosome, nor that the Council still had no idea which genetic keys the Slayer spirit latched onto when choosing new Potential Slayers. What it boiled down to was that Slayers rarely went bad unless they had truly damaging upbringings, and the same _should_ hold true for this man, who was both son and brother. "Have faith in him. John will be _fine_. But we have to get him out of here before Sarge wakes up."

Sam glanced wildly at her brother's commanding officer, then to the Kid's body only feet away, then back to Buffy, and the grieving panic in her eyes hardened into resolve.

"What do I need to do?"

--


	19. Evacuation Plan

**Title**: Evacuation Plan 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: M

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: Buffy looked up into Duke's earnest face, and regretted for a second what she was about to do. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

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Buffy's official, Council-blessed evac plan only called for one passenger. According to the current Board, all that mattered was the survival of the so-called "Lost" Potential-- it had really chapped Robin's hide twenty years ago when the Council had realized just why their detection rituals kept pointing somewhere out past the moon, and Mrs. Grimm had told them where to shove it-- and the recovery of the research material regarding C24. They'd been pleasantly surprised to uncover Xander's son in their investigation of RRTS squads for Buffy's mission, but had been satisfied to leave him with his unit when the mission was done.

Buffy, of course, had given that idea all the respect she thought it deserved: namely, none. She'd gone over the board's heads and arranged for an extra medallion, just in case the juxtaposition of Summers plus Harris plus apocalypse-level event equaled the usual messy fallout. So what if it wasn't either simple or inexpensive to bind a triggerable teleportation spell to a physical object? There were benefits to being the best friend of the current head of the Devon coven... especially where anything concerning the Xander-shaped hole in their lives was involved.

"Put these in one of John's hands," she told Sam, handing her two of the medallions, "and wrap your hands around them."

Sam did as she asked, swallowing hard as she clasped her brother's slack fingers, then looked back at Buffy, wearing a determined, trusting expression that made her parentage painfully obvious. "Now what?" she asked.

"Wait, wait, what are you doing?" Duke objected, looming over them, clearly upset.

Buffy looked up into his earnest face, and regretted for a second what she was about to do. She was pretty sure he and Destroyer between them could take care of Pinky and keep Sarge from turning into a total whack-job in the absence of additional provocation; they'd all be better off if Buffy and the Grimms weren't still here with them. She hoped. Still, the dark Marine had kind of grown on her, and she hated to stick him with the onus of being responsible for losing the valuable UAC property she was stealing.

"Tell them the demony-thing turned us and you had to shoot us with Sarge's gun," she said, smiling sadly at him as she palmed the third medallion. Then she turned back to Sam.

"Repeat after me: there's no place like home."

--


	20. Welcome Home

**Title**: Welcome Home 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: M

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: The peaceful sounds of nature were a pleasant shock after the violent chaos of battle. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

**Notes**: Only one more chapter after this one.

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The warmth of sunlight was a welcome caress on Buffy's skin as she, Sam and Reaper popped into existence on the lawn behind Willow's house in England. The metallic taste of blood in the air was suddenly drowned out by the sweet scents of crushed grass and old-fashioned roses, and the peaceful sounds of nature were a pleasant shock after the violent chaos of battle. Buffy breathed out a huge sigh of relief, then sat down heavily, fighting to stay upright as the adrenaline stopped flowing and the energy-drain of quick healing took its toll. She felt kind of like a puppet whose strings had been suddenly cut.

John was still unconscious, but his color was better; Buffy's only other experiences with Chromosome 24 before Olduvai were all magically induced and Slayer-related, so she had no idea what his recovery timeline should be like, but if the mutation rate from the UAC tests was any clue it would probably take at least another half-hour before any change was apparent.

She had to say, now that she'd seen the original template? She couldn't imagine how the Shadow Men had got their hands on a "demon" in the first place, never mind how they'd discovered they could use magic to transfer its "gifts" to selected people to create superheroes. Their imperfect understanding of genetics had mucked up the results, making C24 only partially effective in most Slayers, but the fact that they'd done it at all was disturbingly impressive. She had to wonder what _their_ failure rate had been like.

Sam had gone quiet, a little wild-eyed but mostly focused on her brother; Buffy was grateful for the lack of hysteria. She knew Sam must have all kinds of questions, but comforting and making with the explanations weren't exactly core Buffy skills, especially when she was exhausted and recovering from a head wound.

The tapping sound of a cane on flagstone caught Buffy's attention, and she looked up to see Willow herself coming out to greet them. The witch's hair had gone completely white over the years and her face was marked by hard-won experience, but she was still beautiful.

"Buffy," she said cheerfully. "You're back early-- and all in once piece! And I see you've brought..." Her eyes widened dramatically as she took in the Grimms. "Oh, goddess. They really are his, aren't they?"

Buffy replied with a wobbly, bittersweet smile.

--


	21. Happily Ever After?

**Title**: Happily Ever After? 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: M

**Category**: B:tVS/DOOM

**Summary**: _Dear Diary_, Buffy wrote, her anachronistic ball-point pen scratching over the old-fashioned journal page. 400 words.

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS way post-"Chosen"; DOOM (2005)

**Notes**: Final part. I've enjoyed writing this sequence; hope you enjoyed reading it!

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_Dear Diary_, Buffy wrote, her anachronistic ball-point pen scratching over the old-fashioned journal page. She'd got in the habit of tracking her days herself again after Giles' death, unwilling to yield to requests that she accept a new Watcher.

_We finally heard back from the Council researchers today. The data and samples Sam brought down from Olduvai have proven their theory about C24 and Slayers; they're pretty sure they can eventually use it to make **every** future Slayer as tough and effective as me. It might take awhile, since they're still not sure what combination of magic made me the way I am, but they're petitioning Willow for help, so it's going to happen eventually. I'm not sure they realize yet, though, that it means their grip on the Slayer line is going to disappear completely as girls start surviving longer and get more stubborn about choosing their own destinies._

_We still haven't told them the truth about Reaper, either. Willow and the coven know, and of course Sam and John and I do, but that's it for now. The Council thinks I'm just being nostalgic about Xander's kids, taking them in so they'll be safe from UAC, teaching them the truth about all three of their parents, and getting them new jobs with Scoobies Inc. I haven't told anyone they're patrolling with me, too._

_At least, John is. Sam bowed out after her first graveyard hunt; she said she wants as normal a life as possible, the way I did all those years ago. John kept coming with, though, and we found out pretty quick that he has most of the same abilities I do. (Ix-nay on the prophetic dreams, but I think that's more of a blessing than a failure). The demon community has picked up his call-sign, talking about a new bogeyman traveling with the Queen Slayer; John finds it pretty amusing, but the Council has been agitating about it._

"They'll figure it out eventually, you know," a husky voice said in Buffy's ear, and she dropped the pen, turning in her chair to face its owner.

"I know," Buffy replied, grinning mischievously at him. "But seriously. The longer we can prevent Andrew from waxing ecstatic about 'the world's first mating pair of Slayers', the better."

John chuckled, then leaned in to capture her lips in a kiss. The diary entry remained unfinished until the next morning.

-the end-


	22. Epilogue: The Longest Stride

**Title**: The Longest Stride

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not.

**Rating**: PG-15/M

**Summary**: _One thing Buffy's taste in men had always, unfortunately, been consistent on: the annoying tendency to brood._ 1400 words.

**Spoilers**: Way post-Chosen; DOOM (2005); sort of pre-Firefly

**Notes**: Challenge/pairing prompt fic. Part of an old series-- set after all parts of "Handle ID Slayer" but before "The Reaper Cometh" (posted separately).

* * *

"What are you thinking about, John?" Buffy asked, striding down the lowered ramp of their shuttle and insinuating herself under her pensive husband's arm.

"I'm wondering," John murmured, staring out at the red-brown sunset on their brownish-red dustball of a half-terraformed new world, "just how long this is going to last."

"What, the sunset?" Buffy teased him lightly, burying her nose in the warm fabric of his shirt. "I know it's been awhile since the last time we saw one, but I'm pretty sure they stop when the world turns far enough to hide the sun, just like the ones back on Earth."

Mmm, Reaper-scent; several decades now, and she'd yet to get tired of it. Andrew had called it a 'C24-linked species survival trait' the one time she'd had the poor judgment to mention it in front of him a few years after she'd become Mrs. Grimm; personally, she'd rather think of herself as a romantic. One who, after years and years and _years_ of colossally bad luck, had had the good fortune to find herself the perfect man.

Almost perfect, anyway. One thing her taste in men had always, unfortunately, been consistent on: the annoying tendency to brood.

"The peace and quiet," John said, tucking his chin atop her head. "Everyone's all alliance and harmony and shit right now, but they didn't suddenly stop being human just because we left Earth. And we have no way of knowing how many samples of C24 made it offworld in some scientist's frozen baggage."

"Way to be an optimist," she replied, sighing. "Think about it this way: at least we can be sure we got rid of all the vampires, and none of the full demons survived leaving Earth's magical field. That's a major advantage for us, right there. As long as there's not a Hellmouth hiding somewhere in this system, we might actually be able to consider retirement."

"And if there is?" he grunted, still living up to their last name as the strangely small-looking solar hemisphere slipped further and further below the horizon.

"Then we go back to slaying," she said, with as much of a shrug as she could manage tucked up against his muscular torso. "No big. If you'd asked me a hundred years ago, I'd never have thought I'd say this-- but I kinda miss the action."

He snorted. "You'll _always_ be in on the action, whether you want to be or not. You weren't ever _not_, I'd bet, even back when you were only a cheerleader."

"I was never _only_ anything," she began indignantly, then sighed. Another argument she'd never have made a century ago, back when she'd wanted to be normal more than anything.

Normal would have died back on Earth, though. Normal would have been overrun by the advancing plague brought back from the UAC research into Olduvai, sparing only those wary and well-funded enough to escape with the extrasolar colony project, or fortify themselves in the Slayer-- and allied demonic-- stronghold once known as Vahla ha'nesh. Maybe one day, when the monsters finished consuming themselves, the small pocket of defiant holdouts there would retake the Earth... but there wouldn't be many 'normal' folk left by the time they did.

It had all happened before, as the ruins left on Olduvai proved; it would all happen again, if human nature held true. But hell if she was going to put her whole life on hold, waiting for that day. Surely there'd been ancient refugees who felt that way; and none had stuck around long enough to see _Buffy's_ world fall, had they? She'd rather live each day as it came; store up precautions just in case, but _enjoy_ all that life still offered, too. The grief would have crushed her long since, otherwise; she'd lost so much over the course of her long life.

As long as she still had John, she could survive anything.

"What brought this up again, today of all days?" she asked.

John was silent for a long moment; then he looked up, at the darkening arc of star-spangled heaven above them. "I calculated the date," he said. "Wanted to know what date to put down for the ship's log, not shiptime or Ariel-time but what the calendar would have said back home."

"And?" she prodded gently, suddenly certain what she'd hear. "How long?"

"Long enough," he sighed. "Would have been nice if it had been our birthday, not her deathday. I wish she could have lived long enough to see the new worlds."

Part of what stung so badly about his twin sister's long-ago death, Buffy knew, was that Sam hadn't _had_ to die; she'd had the same genetic type as her brother, who'd adapted beautifully to the administration of C24. But Samantha Grimm hadn't wanted any part of the world her involvement with UAC had dragged her brother into; she'd never quite stopped feeling guilty for being a part of the scientific team that had unloosed the chromosomal plague on an unguarded world. She'd been part of a search for the cure until the day she'd died-- but she _had_ died, at Duke's side when their complex in Colorado was overrun.

Buffy and Reaper had been fighting at the Cleveland Hellmouth at the time, shutting down a none-too-bright master vampire who'd thought turning some of the plague-created imps might be a brilliant idea.

She remembered standing in the rain, black-flecked blood dripping from the blade in her hands, when their contact at Cheyenne-- Destroyer, restricted to a light-duty job after his injuries on Mars-- had radioed them with the news. It had been a warm evening, already humid with the breeze off the lake before the thunderclouds had finally broken overhead; the warm drops had mixed with the tears on his face as he'd turned to her, pressing his forehead to hers for what had felt like hours.

She'd known then, that they had reached the beginning of the end.

So what was it called when someone found the _end_ of one of those endings? Time to start over, on ground swept clean, and hope humanity could build something better able to stand the test of time.

"Maybe you're right," she said, pulling back to look up into his scruffy face. He hadn't shaved in a week, not since the computer had woken them from their long sleep and he'd hacked off the beard that had grown in during cryo. Her own hair rippled in long, impractical waves down her back; she'd probably cut it off in a few days, too, when it began to interfere with the hard work of helping set up the colony, but until then-- she loved the way it attracted John's touch, the sensation of long, callused fingers combing through the heavy, dark-blonde strands.

"Maybe they'll do it all again a couple hundred years from now," she said, "or a couple thousand, if we're lucky. Maybe they'll do it again, after that; people can be really, ridiculously dumb sometimes. Barbeque forks and PCP ring any bells? But maybe they won't. _Maybe_ they won't even need supernatural protectors anymore. Which leaves us..." she trailed off, running a hand down the front of his dark shirt to tug it out of his waistband.

"Which leaves us where, exactly?" he growled, glaring down at her with a half-amused, half-aroused light in his eyes.

"Exactly where we've always been; party on the dance floor, but keep a stake in your pocket in case of sudden apocalypse," she said, brightly. "Come on back inside; we can survey out the foundations for our homestead in the morning. The Wellses and the Rosenbergs won't land until day after tomorrow."

"Think that's a _stake_ in my pocket, do you?" he murmured, smirk turning up the corner of his mouth, black mood finally breaking as he turned fully toward her.

Buffy backed up the ramp in front of him, dragging him with her by the pocket of his trousers. "Might have to examine it to be sure," she said, smirking back. "Think you might consent to a quick-- inspection?"

"Nothing damn quick about it," John replied, hammering the toggle to shut the ship up behind them. Tonight they'd put to rest the past that brought them this far; tomorrow, they'd take the first step into their new future.

"Sounds like a plan," she murmured, and closed his mouth with a kiss.

-fin-


End file.
